


Drink With Me, Talk To Me, Make Me Forget

by thnksfrthwilliam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:06:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thnksfrthwilliam/pseuds/thnksfrthwilliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Impending doom is no excuse for moping around like a little bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink With Me, Talk To Me, Make Me Forget

Kali found him in a bar in the city, right near a college campus - the perfect place for his brand of chaos. But he wasn’t doing anything besides drinking (an awful lot if she were to judge by the sheer amount of glasses gathered around his spot at the bar) and looking forlornly at the remaining bottles on the shelf. That just wouldn’t do.

“Gabriel - stop moping. The look does not suit you,” she said, sitting down on the stool next to him with a small grimace (it did not appear to be a very  _clean_ bar).

“The world is gonna end soon and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. Tried everything I could - nothing’s gonna save us now, honey” he replied without looking up (she wrinkled her nose at the pet name; no matter how facetiously it was used she hated it).

“How vain of you to think you are the be all end all of preventing the apocalypse. No, the world will not end because the Westerners say it shall; I won’t allow it,” she said decisively.

He smirked, looking over at her (his smirk conveyed years of cosmic irony better than anyone’s she knew). “Is that so? Well you better get to drinking right along with me. Can’t stop the apocalypse sober, now can ya?”

She rolled her eyes and leaned over to kiss him, tasting the whiskey on his lips (and pressing her tongue between them, seeking something stronger). She bit his bottom lip and pulled away; he grinned, eyes half-lidded.

“If you kissed me like that more often I’d let you stop my apocalypse any day, babe.”

She let out a chuckle (dry and musical and disarming) and took his drink out of his hand, sipping it.

“Perhaps your brothers will respond in kind,” she responded (he laughed, raucous and full and bitter).

They drank until the break of dawn and continued well past it, taking their drinking back to one of Gabriel’s many hideaways to celebrate the inevitable with a truly spectacular bang. They were no match made in Heaven, but they were more than good enough.


End file.
